"Die Dachshund Lebt!"

Translated, the title means, "The Dachshund Lives!"

Allen contacted me by noon today wanting a ride. I was planning on going anyway, and since I had no hurry, there was no reason I couldn't wait for him. We agreed on 3 o'clock from the church, which was good because I figured our course would take us by the crash site. I needed to get the address for insurance purposes (more on that later), and if the opportunity presented itself, perhaps even a talk with the owner.

It was raining lightly as we left, but neither of us cared. At nearly 80 degrees and high humidity, the rain actually felt refreshing, and wasn't hard enough to cause serious risk of wrecking. The farther south we got, the lighter the rain, and before long it stopped altogether.

Our meandering course did indeed take us past the crash site. Allen and I had been talking about it, about the insurance and such, and our consensus opinion was I shouldn't talk to the owner directly - why risk a confrontation? I was however determined to get the address.

I stopped at the house, pulled my camera, and snapped some photos of the mailbox with the address number. A little girl was standing there, and I thought, "Why not?". "Can you go get your mother?" I asked. In she ran, retrieved her mother (her whole family, in fact), and it was game on. I was either on the right track or a complete fool.

I asked about the dog, which I'm sorry to say is alive and well. It's actually a mixed breed, combining boxer and dachshund. It was quite a bit larger and beefier than a normal dachshund, which is likely why it survived. I told them I was the guy who hit the dog, and I wanted to touch base. I told them about the emergency room trip, the broken bike, and that I reported it to my insurance company. I gave fair warning my insurance company would likely come after theirs, and asked if she had homeowner's. "We're renting" was her reply. Uh-oh. The owner probably does, and I'm not sure how that's going to work out, but it sounds like a fight coming.

After that, I caught up with Allen (he'd pulled up the road a bit to avoid being collateral damage) and we headed for the church. We luckily avoided most of the approaching rain and finished a very nice ride. My leg felt fine the whole way, and though I miss my Kestrel, the Cannondale performed adequately.

Speaking of bikes...

I spec'd out a 2014 Kestrel 4000 SL today, which is the Ultegra version. For wheels it will have Zipp 60's (instead of Mavic Cosmos) and I'm rolling the dice and going with the Rotor Q rings for the crank. It's a very similar setup to the one I had, and though pricey, it's fair.

There is only thing I don't like; the color scheme. Check it out:


Not in love with that at all, but it'll be worth it, I guess.

Going Nuts

It's only been four days since the wreck, and I'm going nuts. It was unbelievably difficult to watch everyone ride off yesterday morning, and the sun shining outside has me seriously jonesing for a ride.

I got the Cannondale ready last night, tried to throw my leg over and shrieked like a little girl. I'd overlooked what a pull does to the body, and those groin ligaments are tender! Once on the bike it was no trouble at all. Getting on and off is another matter.

When I got up this morning I was really sore again. I even needed a crutch to get around, something I was hoping I was over. My plan had been to get up and ride, but that was washed away by caution. I think I could have toughed it out, but that would only delay the recovery process.

So I layed around for most of the day. About 4 o'clock I decided it was time to give it a shot, even if only a short ride. My plan was to stay in town. Even if I hadn't been hurt that would have been necessary - there was a line of storms just to the southwest. I could see the clouds gathering as I left the house. I headed down to Hillcrest and starting circling.

At 10 miles the rain started, so I wound my way home, finishing with 13 miles. It felt just fine. I don't think I can stand on the pedals with a great deal of pressure, but aero position is a snap, feeling about as normal as it can on my backup bike. With this in mind, I will be trying to ride a bit every day. Running is still out, so I will have to compensate with swimming and biking. With that, I should be able to keep my fitness up.

Girls' cross training starts tomorrow, and I can't run!

Dog Lover, Dog Hater

I've probably owned dogs 45 of my 52 years of life. I love them, always have and always will. Few animals can express such unconditional love and loyalty. But right now, all I can wish for is the early demise of one dachshund.

It was a pleasant ride, up to that most unpleasant moment. We had a tailwind and were cruising along a bit over 20 mph heading north back to Lighthouse. We'd come out the Super 2, but as usual Allen wanted to cross 37 to make a loop. He also likes to head up 337 to Pat's Plants, then turn north. I guess I'm saying it's all his fault.

Allen called out the dog, I saw it. The dog was on a small hill to my left, Allen on my right, and of course the stupid dog went straight for Allen. What is it about Allen's calves that make the dog go for the guy across the road? (Same thing happened on Sunday, only it was a pitbull, and I rode him down.) I saw it all the way. I asked myself, "Is it really going to run right in front of the bike?!" This all happened in a split second, there was no time to stop.

BOOM! I struck the dog broadside, right on the rib cage. This locked the front wheel, and over the top and to the left I went. Felled like a giant oak, the full force of the impact came simultaneously on the left handlebar and shifter and my hip, then the upper body slapped forward. I managed a tuck on the left shoulder, which was better than sticking out the arm (which would have snapped me at the shoulder or collar bone). My head bounced once off the pavement - thank goodness for my helmet! Once on the ground, I skidded to a halt.

At the moment of impact, my first thought was, "Man, I forgot how much this hurts." That actually kind of cracks me up. Heh. Like it was just another day at the office. My next thought was about getting up. I wasn't going to lay there like some wuss.

As odd as it sounds, I was trapped under my bike. Both feet were still clipped, and while it was easy to clear the right leg, the bike lay on my left, and I couldn't twist my leg - my left hip was already in distress. I denied the possibility of it being broken, and began to try to drag myself out from under the bike. My mind flashed back to Gary Flynn crawling back to Washington Ave after falling, and I wasn't having it. With a final twist, I was free, and I stood up.

I was calm, but cursing. Forgive me that, Lord! Cursing the dog, cursing my hip, cursing my bike, but somehow leaving out the dog owner. Yes, the dog owner... should I go up and knock on the door?

I started checking equipment, and had everything checked out I probably would have just ridden off. It wasn't. First and most obvious problem was the handlebar was broken off on the left side. My left shifter was broken. That's about $250 worth of damage to start, and was likely to only go up from there. My Garmin was fine, but my drink system took a beating. I hit so hard the liner came out of the bottle lid!

As for myself, I was bleeding from a tear in my left ring finger - nothing serious, and I ignored it. My left leg was scraped below the knee, and there was some bark peeled from my left arm and shoulder. So far there was nothing that would keep me from going on. The hip though... it throbbed a bit. You never know for sure how those will go. Sometimes you can walk them off, sometimes you can't.

Allen was of course very concerned, asked if I needed him to get help, which I waved off. My only decision now was whether or not I would knock on the door or ride off. I decided someone needed to talk to the owners, and it might as well be me. I managed a stiff-legged walk up to the door, knocked, asked for the mom or dad, and mom appeared.

Believe it or not, I was calm. Ask Allen! I didn't raise my voice, I only told them what happened, that they'd better do something to prevent that from happening in the future, and finally that the dog was likely very injured. The lady said she understood, and asked what time we usually ride. That's right, she was planning to pen the dog up during our designated hours of riding!

"That won't work." says I. "Many riders come through here all the time. We use this road to stay off high traffic areas. I'm not the suing type, but next time you might not be so lucky."

That was pretty much the extent of it. To tell the truth, I wasn't angry, I wasn't upset, it was all very matter-of-fact. The only thing left to do was to try to ride home, assess all the damage to me and the bike, and decide what to do about it. Sure, I knew I'd probably be angry later, but at that time anger would only be in the way. Had to keep the head clear.

Back at Lighthouse, I got off the bike and for the first time knew it was serious. I could hardly stand or walk. I waved Allen off - didn't want to worry him - and loaded up my equipment. At home it was all I could do to get the stuff off the vehicle and get myself into the house. My daughter was home, and I faked it for her, too. Leisa had a ton of things she had to do, and I didn't want her texting mom that I'd been in a bike wreck. I was trying to decided if I was going to get X-rays or not, so I made a sandwich and sat down. Shortly after that Leisa came home. She spotted immediately I was hurt, and once I told her what happened she ordered me into the car. She was upset enough I knew I couldn't out wrestle her with a bad hip!

After a long night in the emergency room (who hasn't done that before?) the report came back as good as it could under the circumstances. Nothing broken! I did severely stretch and twist the ligaments, and it is good and sore. In a few days I should be better, though I could see a week missed easily. There's nothing to do for it, no reason dwell, only thing left is to figure out how to train around it. I can still swim. And that's what I'll be doing.

There was no way I could work today. I couldn't effectively monitor what the students were doing from a seat, and there is no way I could walk around a classroom. I can drive though, so I took the bike up to Bike Doctor. I asked him to go through it all, and before he fixed anything to quote me some prices. I know for a fact the handlebars, aerobars, and shifters are gone. What I'm afraid of is the frame is gone, too. There is quite a bit of rattle in the headset. That's a $1700 frame replacement, and between that and the flight deck, I would be better off buying a new bike.

What is clear at this point is Cicero is out. I have no hip and no bike. If the bike is not fixable, that's likely Ironman as well. It's money I just can't spend. That's the down side. 

I'm just here to work hard

If you really want to get a boiling discussion/debate/argument/fistfight going, take an opposing view with someone regarding their core beliefs. Whether it be religion, politics, or your favorite flavor of soft drink, there is nothing more essential to the person than his or her guiding principles. This is the source of motivation, the moral compass, and ultimately defines who you are to the rest of the world.

I'm just here to work hard.

The Amish, from whom our club draws its name, keep the idea God placed them here to serve Him, and they do so zealously. They work hard from dawn to dusk, living simple lives in Him. Sure, we make jokes from time to time, but there truly can be nothing but admiration for a society that manages to live as simply and directly as do the Amish. And by the way Wes, there's your communal anarchy model.

I go to work, and I work with good people. Still, as the school year draws to a close, more and more I can see how people are in glide mode. Rules are relaxed (just when they should be tightened), and the implied message to the kids is it's play time. It's times like this I wish we were a bit more Amish.

Me, I'm just here to work hard.

In our group workouts, discussion always ranges from what's happened in our lives to what will, our relationships, and perhaps our goals. Truthfully it's a joyous part of the day for all of us, and not to be missed. I truly believe it's the candy that keeps us all coming together as we do. The tone can be somewhat different on hard workout days. In the moments leading up to the difficult portion the talk turns to how bad we feel, how slow we will be, the typical lowering of expectations. These are negative thoughts, and only serve to limit us.

I'm as bad as anyone in this regard with one possible exception, and this I say only because I am not in the mind of anyone else but me. When the moment comes, I push the negative out of, or at the very least far back of my mind. I turn my thoughts to right now, what I can control and how I can control it. I start to see connections of course and wind speed and gradient. I make the choice to try hard, control what I can and leave the rest to chance. The talk will come later. Right now it's the workout.

I'm just here to work hard.

Used to be when we rode out to the county line, it was a slow-motion stroll, almost painfully so at times. No more. It's now a given that there will be a group of riders that will fall into line and roll out at a moderate pace. It's not a bad idea on many levels, starting with time management and going to our ultimate goals of distance racing. It's true, we don't get as much time to chat, but after all, our goal is to gain fitness, practice race-specific activity (in the form of aero position), and possibly most importantly sharpen the mind's focus. I do feel badly about anyone who longs for the days past, but as for me, there is only one way to go.

I'm just here to work hard.

Last Night
Last night was a great night - 9 guys showed, all great riders, and we left the church more or less on time (5 minutes late for Jimmy). The night was warm and a bit muggy - summer is coming, and the humidity is rising. I had considered coming out and putting in miles early, but I don't handle high humidity well, especially early on, so I backed off the idea. My knee was still sore anyway, so it was probably just as well. After all, the night is a quality workout, not quantity.

At 337, I jumped on front and pulled out to the line. John T., Jimmy, and Scott joined on I believe. Truth is, I can't say for sure who got on as I never really looked back. I figured if guys wanted on they would be there, if they didn't, they wouldn't. While I didn't ride it that hard (22.5 mph average) it would likely be harder than some guys would want leading up to the hard portion of the ride. With 9 riders, there shouldn't be anyone left behind.

I kept it smooth. Intentionally I kept my mouth closed all the way out, meaning I was breathing only through my nose. Opening the chest slowly and smoothly, I cruised through the first pull with little effort. This was a very good sign, as the wind seemed more or less in our faces for most of the way out. Not overly strong, but it was definitely there. By the time we hit the straightaway, the Amish windmills betrayed the wind direction to be more south than southwest. It would actually be a bit favorable for the ride.

As we gathered, the serious talk began. After the last few weeks I pretty much knew how it would go... I would say, "What are we going to do?" Most everyone else would look at their feet. I guess the truth is we should have a plan in place before we get to the tree (and individually I always do), but I always give the guys a chance to decide (in the name of flexibility). When no consensus could be reached, I made my choice. "I'm taking the first pull to Bromer. I will be going smoothly. I won't pull all the way or too hard. Join if you want." John T. lined up willingly; Jimmy grudgingly joined on a moment later.

The wind was at our backs slightly, and the ride was smooth and fast. We were coasting through almost 27 mph, and once again I was breathing from the nose only. As the straightaway ended, I yelled back to John T., "I am good to go the whole way unless you want a pull. Just let me know if you want to lead." He answered, "I'm fine right here!" I didn't even worry about Jimmy - I knew he'd be happy with a strong pull.

From there the speed went up, up, up. Before long 27 had turned to 29, 30 and more. I didn't look back. It'd been a fight to get the ride started, and I figured either they wanted to do it or they didn't. We weren't doing anything they couldn't do, so it would come down to choice. They wanted to be there or they didn't.

I was pleasantly surprised to hear their voices behind me in the later stages of the ride urging me on. I was then sure not only were they there but they were well under control. It had been a good ride for all of us. In the final stretch I waited for the pass that didn't come. I wouldn't have contested - my ride had been strong and exactly what I needed.

The run after featured a mixture of music and Jimmy complaining about the course. Scott tried to restrain himself, but Scott is Scott and ultimately he ran away. I was feeling pretty good, so I ran up to catch both him and Rand. Rand didn't take long to notice the pace had quickened and he pulled back. I just kept pace with Scott, letting him lift it up. We finished solidly, capping a great workout.

Me, I'm just here to work hard.

Long rides, dogs, and egalitarianism

Saturday
There were six of us to start yesterday's century ride, my 12th of the year. Roy, Miller, Jimmy, Galloway, and Rand were the other riders, though only Miller and Roy would complete the century with me. Galloway didn't want more, and Rand and Jimmy were going to do BAIL (Bike Across Illinois) today. I would have joined them, but after months of trying to pry details out of Jimmy (the ride was his idea after all), I finally gave up. Even as we were unloading bikes yesterday for the ride, Jimmy let me know the ride had been moved to the next day (Sunday). I just don't roll like that. Plans were set.

So Galloway, Rand, and Jimmy rode with us for around 22 miles, then split off. They turned right on 337, we went left. I asked Miller and Roy if they wanted to head to Livonia, turn left on 56 and head to Salem, then south on 135 to Palmyra. I'd never done the course this way, so I wasn't precisely sure of the distances. It sounded close, and it was a plan. The winds were light and variable, a complete non-factor in whatever plans we set.

The ride to Livonia was exactly as you would expect. I suggested to Roy he get into aero as his Ironman was going to include large portions of his race where he would need to ride down. Might as well practice the position. I pulled us out to the county line, we eased into Livonia, then it was onto Salem.

Roy took this leg, doing a marvelous job. The first few miles of the 10 are the toughest, with a bit of climbing, but after that the road flattens out and is beautiful. The road is wide and clean, and traffic was no problem at all. I will be seeing a lot more of this road this summer.

In Salem we took some side streets to avoid downtown, headed south to the 60/135 intersection, then south out of town. This was probably the hardest part of the ride, as the first 3 miles have long hills. Again, once past this point the road does flatten out, and it's a great ride. We saw about 5 miles of it before we turned. No, Palmyra was not in the cards. That would have put us in the neighborhood of 115-120 miles, more than those guys had time to do. We'll save that for another day.

We stopped at Wendy's for lunch, then it was back to 56. Once again Roy took the lead (after we fixed his flat), and he did a great pull to Livonia. I took the pull again on 337, and with that we'd lopped off a huge section of the ride.

The one thing of note... Jimmy and I have discussed over the last few times we've been on 337 the Lost River segment. We've never acted on taking it, but today I decided to throw it out there before we hit it. The plan was for me to do the lead out, with Miller passing me about halfway up. It worked to perfection. I carried us in over 30 mph, then he did the rest. I came in a few seconds after him for #2 on the list. That's not bad considering we were 80 miles into the ride by then.

The rest of the ride was uneventful. Miller had to go right home, but Roy and I ran 3 miles. Roy kept pushing the pace though, and we wound up much faster than we planned. No harm no foul, and when we finished, the day was done.

Sunday
Today's ride was with the Burr-eye. Lester and Allen met me at the church, and we did a tour of the southern parts of Orange county. I bored them with talks of Facebook arguments. I accused Allen of being Amos Yoder, and his tell-tale smirk when I brought it up convicted him beyond his ability to raise objections, though he offered copious amounts. He's caught, and that's that.

We did have a dog incident. South of Orleans we passed a family cookout, and their precious, precious pitbull ran playfully (read: flashed in full-attack mode) towards Allen's luscious calf. Can't blame the dog really, that thing must look quite a bit like a drumstick, but the only thing that saved Allen was the dog seeing Lester, and the surprised look on the dog's face betrayed it. In slow motion I could see where it was going to end up. I was third in the line, a bit to the left, and the dog was backing away from Lester to the left. You guess it - the dog was right in front of me with no opportunity for me to miss. This, my friends, is a rerun! I hit the dog - nothing else to do - and I felt it go under the wheels. The dog made no sound, just looked surprised. The owners, to their credit, were trying to chase after the animal, and I actually called up, "Sorry, I hit your dog". "No problem!" they yelled back.

Poor dog. If only someone could rescue it. ;)

There were other altercations. A line of farmers were coming at us from the opposing lane, and right before I passed the tractor it suddenly veered into my path, turning left into his property. "Not a very smart move" I called to the guy. The vehicles behind him attempted to crowd in too - what were they thinking? The guy in the truck behind the tractor started shaking his head at me. What the heck did he expect? The farmer on the tractor didn't signal, and I clearly had the right of way. They were behaving like idiots, for sure.

So I wound up short of 200 on the bike, short of 30 on the run for the week, but in a week's time I've also raced twice and ridden 100 miles. That would be good enough for most, I think.

I plan to run, ride, and swim tomorrow. Details are still being hashed out. 

Quick Hits

Not a lot to post recently... lots of rest needed to recover from Saturday's race, but I'm not getting it.

Yesterday ran a 5k race in the morning and 5 miles in the afternoon. That's a lot for me. Granted, I'm no Miller.

Today we rode the club ride, and I added a few with Al. It was 40 miles, and I passed on the run afterward. Since we are running the trail for 7 miles tomorrow, I thought it might be wise to hold off.

No swim this Thursday. Working Sectional track (I think).

Saturday we are riding a century from Parkview starting at 7 AM. This should be easy pace. Should be.

Sunday we are swimming at Kenray at 3, then riding 25-30 miles after.

Monday something big is cooking. Jimmy may have found a way to get off his butt about the BAIL ride. Waiting to see how this one is panning out...

Bend, don't break!

Another Thunder in the Valley has come and gone, with another strong club presence. Roy, John T., Jimmy, Rand, Scott, Summer, Steve, Allen... yes, Allen! Let the naysayers repent; Allen is now a triathlete!

I'll start my tale at the staging. It was a disappointing turnout this year, with far fewer bike racks present. Man, I can remember that upper lot crammed to overflowing with bikes and gear! I suppose it was partly the cold, but more likely it's the change of hands from Paul Asay to the new crew. They're well-intended, but it goes to show you how important key people are in organizations. Paul had that je ne sais quoi that pulled people in. He knew how to handle the little things that count for a lot. The new race director is young, and he may figure things out some day, but I'm afraid this race may not survive to see that time.

The nice thing about the low numbers is we were all able to stage in the same area near the bike in/out. That would provide some comfort to Allen, and actually a couple of honorary members we picked up. We were all there early enough to comfortably lay out the equipment, change clothing, return anything to the cars, and head down to the lake for pre-race instructions (however little). This portion went pretty smoothly.

I would add I was Jimmy's mule. Last night he contacted me about bringing his Garmin. This morning he contacted me about his shoes. I was afraid about halfway to Terre Haute he'd contact me about getting his bike. Not a problem at all, I was happy to help!

We had our usual pre-race prayer, this time a bit unusual because much of the crowd around us joined in. It's nice to see when it happens. I do essentially the same prayer every time, so I guess the guys don't mind reruns. I do this particular one because it reminds me who is in control and why I can do what I'm doing at all.

Scott and Summer were on a team, with Summer swimming and Scott riding and running. Summer went in the elite group, and she belonged there. She was the first to enter (of our group), and held her end up swimmingly (see what I did there!). She was out and gone long before I exited.

I caught some people from the elite wave, and really didn't have a bad swim, other than steering off course initially. This goes to one of the things the race direction had wrong. Yellow markers are for the corners; they had them on the back line of the course. This makes for a confusing sight, as the elite immediately steered for the center bouy - as did I. There was a low mist hanging off the water and it was difficult to see at water level. I felt I might be off, but I saw the crowd of swimmers ahead and figured I must be okay. After a bit I grew concerned as there were no swimmers around me. I finally had to stop and raise out of the water to get the true line. I wasn't terribly off, but it did cost time.

The sun became a bit of a problem on the way back. Again, visibility wasn't great, and I had to pause and raise up a few times, more than I've ever done. I was passed by only two swimmers, both college swimmers (I recognized them from before the race). They were also both women. I got chicked - twice!

Amongst our club there had been much discussion about what to do about the ride. It was 39 degrees when we went into the water. Though the water was warm, the air wasn't - you could clearly see the exhaled air from all persons in the area. The body core would not freeze on the ride because we would be in aero the whole way. The hands and feet were another matter. This was one time I wish I owned a set of shoe booties. I had multiple socks with me, and took the time to dry my feet and put on thick cotton. This was the best I was going to be able to do. As for the hands, I had my trusty long-fingered gloves. These were a little difficult to get on, but they were well worth the time lost.

The ride course reverted to an emergency course we did a few years back, and for my money is a far superior way to go. It does climb for a while, but it isn't too steep. The thing is with any ride segment, it takes a bit for the blood to get to the legs, and for that amount of time you just can't push hard. It might be a couple miles, it might be five, but it always takes a little bit to get it going. Today was no exception.

I had taken a while to get out of transition, so there were plenty of bikes to pass - at first. The elite wave had contained maybe 15-20 people, and I quickly moved through most. By around mile 4 or 5 I was beginning to get isolated. I could see people way off at distances that seemed improbable to cover. Improbable is not impossible, and if you're out there you need something positive to focus on, so I started climbing the ladder. I'd had to leave my fogged-over sunglasses at the transition, so vision wasn't great, but even at that I could see the distance beginning to close over and over. I'd go by hard, then search for the next one, each time the distance a bit farther out.

One thing I did notice - it seemed about everyone in front of me had on a jacket. Not me. I was in my race kit and nothing else. This was the smart move, for me anyway. Those jackets were invariably flapping in the breeze, causing drag. Over and over I slid by one struggling rider after another.

Okay, here's another thing I noticed during the ride - between 9-10 miles is usually where I see the pros coming back through. There were none today. In fact, I didn't see any bikes until almost 12 miles, on the last climb before the long grade down to the turn. Granted, they still had a big lead, but... they weren't THAT far out. So even if my ride wasn't as fast as I'd hoped for, I was comparing well with the overall group. That was motivating. Keep the head on the positive!

I always start counting riders from the first one until I turn. When I could finally see the marker I was in 10th place. Usually that's more like 50! More than that, I spotted several weakening riders in that group, and with plenty of time to chase, I could really move up for the run segment.

Just before the turn I heard what I thought was Scott's voice say, "Good job, Bill". Was he the guy right in front of me? I'll admit, I never thought I'd see him all day. Scott is a great rider. I wasn't sure what he was wearing, but as soon as I turned I blasted back up to speed, and sure enough, I could clearly read "Wie Geht's?" (What's Up?) It was Scott! As I remembered, this segment heads uphill steadily for a good bit, and so things slowed down a bit. The early morning sun was directly behind and shining, and watching my shadow the rhythmic rock of my pedaling was clearly visible. The chase was on again - I was 9 and climbing.

Cut to Allen...
Allen was just now completing his tour of the lake. It was his first lake swim race - wait, his first swim race of any kind - and anxiety got a hold of him from the beginning. This is normal! Everyone goes through it, no matter your level, and Allen tried desperately to clear his head. As he said later, "Panic is irrational by nature, and no matter how I tried to tell myself to stop, I couldn't." No, this didn't result in Allen quitting. Allen is no quitter! He took the long way around the lake, adding to his time, but he completed the swim. This is why I respect the guy so much... this must have been terrifying at some levels, yet he was able to push himself through it. It was a major accomplishment, the rest of the day was merely the cherry on the sundae.

There were a couple of riders directly ahead that took no time at all to catch, but beyond that it was going to be more work. One in particular took me back a few years to a race when Steve and I were in a 3-way fight with one other rider. That guy was fast on the flat, Steve could climb, and I recovered fastest. It was an epic battle, and began to notice like qualities in this guy in front of me. He could drop pretty fast, carry that momentum to the top of the next roller, but I was recovering faster over the top AND was a bit faster on the flats. Because of the rollers we see-sawed for a bit, but eventually I did pass him. By this time I was in 6th or 7th place.

I set the sights on the next rider, but something changed... I was watching the shadows behind me under my left armpit, because that rider was hanging in there. I began to see him at the tops of rollers, but would soon drop him over the top and the ensuing flats. I suspect he was drafting a bit as there were zero course marshals all day long. I passed one or two more riders, and now I was in 5th place. This was the best position I've ever seen in this race!

Near the end I saw his tell-tale shadow once more, and this time he made a surge around me. We were only about a mile out, and this chapped me a bit. No way I was going to let him take that place after I'd pulled him. We hit one final roller, I plowed over and past, and laid into it hard. There was no way he was going to be able to come back from that one. Now it was into the park and onto the run.

My hands were so cold I could barely unsnap my helmet. This actually took the most time in the transition! Shoes went on with some difficulty, and I was out - and I had to check my feet, because my feet were so frozen it felt like I was running in my bike shoes! I could actually feel the clips under the balls of my feet! I knew I'd taken them off, but by golly, the phantom pain was there nonetheless.

I'd worn my Garmin 220 so I could make a run segment later. This presented me with a problem - I started it at the beginning of the race because I wanted a total time. There was no good way for me to get splits on the run, so I just let it run. When it beeped, the first running mile was 6:38 - far better than I imagined under the circumstances. I just held the rhythm throughout the run. My quads were cramping something awful at the start of the run, and they were certainly very tired throughout the run. I caught only one runner ahead of me, moving me to 4th place. This stuck, and that's how I finished the day.

My goals prior to going in were all met - I wanted to bike between 23 and 24 mph (at least), which I did. I wanted to average under 7-minute pace in the run, which I did. The swim had to be whatever it would be... I've been so sick I haven't been in the water in some time. That said, I did hold 1:30 per 100 m pace, which in open water is pretty good for me. I'm very happy with the day overall, and though it's not my best time, it was a solid effort. Taking out the transitions, each of the three racing legs contained a great deal of focus and effort. I don't feel let down by any of them at all.

Moving down the line, here's a recap of those I managed to talk to:

Steve: struggled with his back and his calf. Training has been short due to the cold weather. Had a good bike, run did him in.

Jimmy: great day! His run saved him (as usual). He's not happy about his bike, but I think maybe he was looking at the bogus times posted. I suspect he'll be happier once he sees his Garmin data. He took 2nd in his age group by a mere 3 seconds (to Paul Asay).

Roy: outstanding effort! He beat Jimmy (first time) and took 2nd in his age group. Very good ride, solid run.

John T.: had a hard time getting the legs working on the ride. Solid run. Didn't hear much of the swim.

Rand: only grunted at me when I asked for info. A riddle wrapped in a mystery hidden in an enigma.

Allen: it took a while, but he finished his first triathlon. Nothing but praise for the effort. As with any race, you have to do one before you know what you need to do better. A lot of questions were answered today.

Summer: outstanding swim. Seriously.

Scott: I know he's disappointed, because Scott never thinks he does well enough. We talked a bit after, and I believe his ride was a struggle because he started cold. Just like running, you don't go straight to race effort with cold muscles. You need to be processing lactic acid, getting the bursa flowing, get the heart rate up... a short run before the ride might have worked wonders. Something to think about.

Looks like we're riding tomorrow afternoon, 2:45. I never heard a place, but I will assume it will be from the Mitchell Church of Christ. I would go up to 50 miles if anyone is interested?